King of the Nine Hells
by briibraa
Summary: February 6th, 1886; London, England. On the night of Blaine Anderson's 14th birthday, the Anderson mansion is mysteriously engulfed in flames. Blaine goes missing for a month afterward the fire and his parents death, leaving no trail behind him; before returning with a mysterious man by the name of Sebastian Smythe glued to his side. DEMON!AU.


_February 6th, 1886; London, England. On the night of Blaine Anderson's 14th birthday, the Anderson mansion is mysteriously engulfed in flames. While Blaine managed to escape the fire himself, his parents, unfortunately, were trapped within. Blaine goes missing for a month afterward the fire and his parents death, leaving no trail behind him; before returning with a mysterious man glued his side, ready to take on the Anderson family business and the massive fortunate the accompanied it. DEMON!AU; Based on the popular manga/anime series "Kuroshitsuji," or "Black Butler."_

* * *

When Blaine opens his eyes, he's immediately blinded by white.

His head pounds heavily and his throat is sore and dry. He stutters out a cough, hoping to clear it, but it only causes him to wince. He feels as though he's just woken up from a nap that he had been taking for far too long, and an unconscious part of his mind wishes that were true.  
It takes a while for Blaine to recall where he is - and still then, he isn't quire sure of the answer - but he certainly knows how he got here.

Blaine can't see much beyond the white; more obvious colours like black and red shine dimly through the bright light, but they do little to aid him in figuring out his location. He can't make out his surroundings, but the gentle movements of his arms tells him that he's surrounded by something soft and weightless. When he lifts out his hand to touch, his fingers brush across soft bristles. He picks something up, cradles it in his hand. Drags his fingers across smooth, wide edges down to the hard, prickly stem at the bottom. When his fingers nip at the bottom edge, he realizes it's warm.

Feathers.  
Why would the feathers be warm?

"Hello, little one," a voice coos, and the sudden noise confuses Blaine; the voice belongs to a stranger, yet he can't help but oddly feel relaxed at the sound of his voice. His shoulders sink down. Blaine feels prickles against his bare arms, as if fingertips were ghosting across his skin, yet he still sees nothing before him. "My, they get younger and younger every time. Astonishing _you_ could have the power to summon _me_,"

That's all he needed to hear - he had succeeded in his endeavours.  
When he had pilfered through what remained of his parents library mere days after the fire, he was surprised when he found a book of demons and lore, of all things, that remained untouched from the tongue of the flames. The book was one of the few that remained, but this one being in much better condition than the rest. He had wanted to save as many books as he possibly could- but this gem was irresistible Remembering the lore his father use to tell him, Blaine couldn't help but take a quick peak inside the pages.

And Blaine, _foolish_ Blaine, landed on one specific chapter by mere chance. The one that bore the reader with the most useful information about demon contracts, and the cautions of summoning one to do your bidding - and he chose to believe it. And it gave him an idea.

And Blaine held that book tightly to his chest for the rest of the day.

Blaine grits his teeth - he told himself, as he went through the ritual, that he would be brave about this. He wouldn't back down, regardless of the terms this creature might come up with or the trick me might get mixed in. He wanted this. He was sure of it. "I'm not in the mood for socializing," he says, his voice sounding quite the opposite of confident, wavering in the midst of it.

"But wouldn't you like to be on a first name basis?" the voice carries on without hesitation, "I'll even tell you my true name - the one that you won't kill your ears to hear, at least,"

"I'd rather this remain professional."

"Oh, but you're so pretty," it insists. "I could eat you up right here, contract or not," Blaine winces, and the voice carries on, sounding rather disappointed in newly appointed knowledge. "... Fortunately for you, I'm not quite allowed to do that, so a contract it must be. What can I do for you, little one?"

Blaine feels a hot coil wrap around his stomach - almost like a tail, squeezing slowly at first, and getting tighter and tighter. Blaine wheezes a little, gasps out for air, "I want a series of things," Blaine begins when he finally manages to breathe, the coil letting loose when it realizes that it's squishing him, "I want to show the people who've scorned my father about his decisions over his company - putting me in place for the heir - that they're wrong. I want my parents socialite friends to roll on their backs and beg for forgiveness-" Blaine falls quiet rather abruptly noticing that he had gotten far too riled up over the matter, and was beginning to get too endorsed in the subject. He didn't want his anger to overcome his consciousness. "I want revenge of my parent's death. And I want to have you do my bidding until I see that their deaths are avenged. Properly."

A loud scoff is the first response he gets, and the sharp echoes around him heavily. "Revenge is getting a little too old, don't you think? I've been hearing humans beg for it since I became king. Surely you couldn't come up with something more creative?"

"This is what I wish for," Blaine replies quickly, and this time, he sounds much more confident in himself than he had previously. "And considering your nature, I assume you won't be too hesitant in accepting my offer."

"Lucky for you, I'm getting quite hungry - and you're the most interesting human that has ever summoned me, despite your lackluster wishes of revenge," it sounds smug, now, and if Blaine could see properly, he was sure he would be greeted by a wide, mischievous grin. "You do know what a contract with me entails, correct?"

"I have a guess."

The voice scoffs once again. "Are you referring to the bed time stories you heard when you were younger? Human lore really does us no justice." It coughs loudly, clears it's throat, and continues. "I have a hefty price. I bind myself to you. You bring me in to the human world. I do your bidding, and once the job is complete-" There it was again, the words dripping in venom and oozing a smug look. "- I get to kill you and devour your soul, blatantly put." There is a beat, and Blaine opens his lips to speak, but is cut off. "And I want your body, too. You'd be quite the vessel,"

"My soul... it requires you to... kill me?"

Sebastian barks a laugh at that, sounding purely amused. "Of course. What else did you expect? I can't simply reach in to your chest and lure your soul out, as much as I wish it were that easy," "Think long and hard before you accept this contract. There's no way to break it. Once you agree, you, your soul, and your body are mine. And mine only."

Blaine doesn't need to think about it. He had made the decision the second he had picked up the book, and his willingness to go through with this had become clear when he decided to go through with the ritual to summon it. Blaine's mind is made, and there's no second-guessing of himself. Not this time.

"I accept."

The sound of wind drowns out his verbal acceptance, though odd enough, there is no breeze that hits his skin. The feathers, as he had earlier determined, pull away from Blaine; and suddenly it's as if his eyes are opened. He can see his surroundings, clear as day, and while they are unfamiliar to him, he is still happy to be knowledgeable of where he is.

And before him, a man is perched on top a skinny tree branch that seems to protrude out of nowhere. There is a darkness that seems to cloak him and hide his visible features, but he can make out two things - a pair of rather vibrant red eyes as they stare straight towards him. The feathers are swirling towards the man before him, over his shoulder, turning in to a dark grey colour and piecing themselves together, slowly. They do so, smalls strips of feathers forming slowly until they are outstretched the whole way - two giant wings, stretching lengthwise to a great distance. And then the man tucks them in, and within a blink of an eye, they're gone.

"You chose to remain this professional, so I'll keep my true name and form to myself. But you can call me Sebastian. For now,"


End file.
